


Lullaby of the Dark

by IraGeneve



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2020-03-30 00:48:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19031374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IraGeneve/pseuds/IraGeneve
Summary: “A figure clad in the head of a hare. A most disturbing sight. This new foe holds something human within her. Some shards of ordinary life. She seems to be a hunter. I have met many different beings in this place, but this is the first one with a natural skill of hunting. In any other place one could deem it a talent. But her knack for tracking, capturing and killing is something else here. There is something else in her too, she seems to seek something.”





	Lullaby of the Dark

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to try something different :D

_“A figure clad in the head of a hare. A most disturbing sight. This new foe holds something human within her. Some shards of ordinary life. She seems to be a hunter. I have met many different beings in this place, but this is the first one with a natural skill of hunting. In any other place one could deem it a talent. But her knack for tracking, capturing and killing is something else here. There is something else in her too, she seems to seek something.”_

I put down my pen. Taking notes of these monsters began to be the only activity that keeps me sane. It helps me remember who I am. The basic activities of eating and sleeping are now out of my need. The only thing that I can still do willingly is to write. These yellowed pages are my last anchor of the world that used to be, and they are growing thin. I am trying to keep them as long I as I can, changing my handwriting and using every little space. It works, for the moment at least. I don’t want to think what will happens once I’ll be out of paper.

Perhaps, that’s when my real death will finally come.

I’m studying these killers. Their behavior, the sounds they make, the way they relentlessly track us day after day, Trial after Trial. These monsters, ironically, became my obsession. In the back of my head I am hopelessly hoping that, if I can understand them, maybe I can make them stop. The futile wish of a lost mind.

The Huntress, as we call her, is something else. She frightens me, and fascinates me in the same time. Her personality never slips. She hunts, she sacrifices and she kills.

Back in the human world we have a saying. “Curiosity killed the cat” they said, but here death became a joke. I tried many times to leave this place, to get back into the fog that once embraced me. I still remember that day. The day I left…I regret that moment every passing minute. I regret not knowing to love what I once had, not until it was too late.

The fog never sends me back home no matter how many times I try, but sometimes it allows me to travel. I can go to places that we all know, but not with the same purpose. The killers always seemed surprised to see me. I called these expeditions “Outside Trials”. I have never shared my discovery with my fellow companions, not yet. As selfish at it sounds, I just don’t want them to die, no more than I hate knowing how much they already have to endure. The only way back to the campfire, Trial or Outside Trial, is death. I decided to spare them the suffering when they could rest instead. I’m never leaving for too long, at least I don’t think so. They rarely seem to know that I left, and they don’t question the marks on my body or the fresh blood on my clothes. Sometimes the fog sends me to the farm where the deformed beast lives, sometimes it sends me into the claws of the witch. Never the same, never when I expect it to. But I keep trying.

One day I tried again. Walking through the fog was a fight in itself. Invisible claws trying to drag me back, ripping at my clothes and at my skin. They never want me to leave, but they always seem happy when I reach the other side. They seem to mock me, as if to tell me “see you soon”.

I had never been there before. Not on my own. Unmistakably big trees were hiding the sky, the humid air making my eyes wet. The Red Forest was sleeping, no generators to burthen the bushes or lockers to offer shelter.

I kept walking for a while, the cool air filling my lungs. When you’re running for your life you don’t really have time to see, to really see, what’s around you. The dark bark of the trees were spotted with moss, the grass wet with lingering rain drops. But nothing more. It seemed like a still picture carved in time, not a single fly disturbing the peace. Even the crows that we use to see were now gone.

Then I heard it.

The echo of her voice hid my footsteps, and I laid down behind the nearest tree. Too afraid to move. I knew the sound very well, too well, my muscles tensing against my will.

It started off like a lullaby meant to calm down the kids, fast and rhythmed. The very one that haunted us even in moments of peace. It was never clear to me how something so innocent can become so terrifying. It reminded me of the moments all of us had to die, again and again, hunted down by the bloody hare. She seemed to stop in place, unaware of my presence. Then…the song changed. She stopped singing, changing it into a steady hum. Slowly, I turned my back away from the safety of the tree. I wanted to see her.

The Huntress was gone, a woman in her stead humming the deadly song. Facing me was her back, her maskless head bathing into the moonlight. I never heard this part of the song, we never lived that long. It sounded the same, it only…felt different. It felt old.

The more I was listening I caught myself looking back. Memories of my family, of my friends, of things that made me smile…of things long lost. Her voice trembled for a moment, and only then I realized she got off rhythm. Conflicted. Frustrated. Sad. I wanted to take out my notebook. I just couldn’t move my eyes away from her. Her voice had a child’s playful tone, and a monster’s dreadful chuckle.

There was a short pause followed by a sharp exhale, like she gave out her last breath. I was confused.

When she started singing again it felt like the entire forest shifted. The branches felt much longer, frightening so, and the moon never felt colder. Her voice…I have met death many times since this place has swallowed me, and I have learned to deal with fear. But her voice gave me goosebumps. It wasn’t the voice I heard so many times before, it felt like the entire forest was singing loud into my ears, heavy tones of strained sorrows. The echo went deeper and I was terrified, but I didn’t know of what. Sitting there underneath the moonlight, with her short messy cut hair and her blood stained clothes, she didn’t look threatening. It was like she wasn’t even there. The song downed few octaves, echoing through my entire body. A song of tragedy, of despair that slowly emerged into madness. She laughed, and she giggled, and she sang something more than I could comprehend. I was feeling a psychical pain that I wasn’t supposed to. It burst from inside my chest and my eyes got wet, the bridge of my nose hurting with something I haven’t felt in so long. I was crying.

And that was the moment when I realized. She never sang this song for us, not a single moment. We were merely prey she had to hunt, a prey she had to kill. The song was hers, the song of a story lost to the world.

I stood there long before the lullaby stopped. The forest felt silent again, the sound of raindrops beating against the leaves being the only sound around. But I couldn’t hear it. Her haunting laugh that ended the lullaby of the dark was still loud in my ears. I couldn’t move when the well-known bloody hare stood in front of me, nor when she picked up her axe. I could only close my eyes.

….

Back at the campfire, even to this day, I think back to that moment. I am trying to understand what happened, what did I see, but with no avail. The memory of that moment and the overwhelming emotion left me with something else. I had more hope than I ever did before in this god forsaken place.

I am hoping that maybe there is a possibility to leave one day. To escape.

All of us. Together.

**~ Unknown (Potentially Benedict Baker)**


End file.
